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I almost deleted this and re-wrote it as a typical happy shiny blog post, but, the truth is, not every adventure is as awesome as you think it’s going to be, so here it is:

I can’t remember how many Triscuits I eat over thee days of hiking, which is frustrating me as we pack our bear canister for a long weekend of hiking in the Blue Mountains of Eastern Washington. Come to think of it, the number of Triscuits I eat over three days of hiking now, when I spend most of my days on my butt in front of a computer instead of putting away miles, has changed from when we were thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. No matter how much hiking you’ve done, every hike is a new hike, and doesn’t really get any easier, which seems to be my lesson of the summer.

It’s hard to get into a rhythm as a weekend hiker. This is yet another way thru-hiking ruins you. Before the trail, if I did a day hike I’d be satisfied, but now, it’s like when you open a carton of your favorite ice cream from the freezer and there’s only a tiny spoonful left. I want a whole bowl –okay, I want the whole carton. Having done a long immersive hike makes any time spent hiking now a little bitter sweet. Sure I enjoy it, but I always leave the trail a little unsatisfied, craving more. On this trip I also realized weekend hiking can lack a certain external motivation that can be needed to push through the rough parts.

As usual, by the end of Day 1, I was exhausted. But what was missing was the motivation to continue two more days like that. The rest of the trail was probably more maintained and going to get easier, but we didn’t know that, and there was no prize at the end. Yes, they say it’s all about the journey, not the destination, but what motivates the journey? Isn’t it, in part, the destination, if we’re really being honest with ourselves? On the long trail, it was the culmination of a larger goal that propelled me to keep going. On many of the hikes I do it’s the anticipation of reaching the summit, seeing those 360 degree views, or an epic waterfall, or something I can’t find anywhere else. But this hike –I was just not feeling it. It was just a loop through forest and fields that looked similar to what we’d been hiking for the last year; we were, in fact, going in a circle. The only reward seemed to be sore muscles and exhaustion to start the work week with, and since we were behind schedule, that meant pushing really hard for two more days, or extending into a third day, and I’d have to go into work for a few hours when we returned. I didn’t have enough internal motivation in me to make it.

These little white flowers always give me a little boost when I walk past them. They remind me of stars.

More happy little flowers

I’m not going to give a play-by-play of the weekend –like most backpacking, it involved hiking, filtering water, eating, and more hiking. This one did have the unique quality of containing more bushwhacking than I’ve ever experienced (or ever care to again!), so much so that our pace was cut in half and we didn’t make as many miles as planned on the first day, throwing off the rest of the trip. There was also the fact that wading through knee-to-neck-height bushes, and being unable to see the ground beneath my feet, trusting in Not-a-Bear that we were in fact on a trail (we always were, he has mad trail-finding skills) was not my idea of a fun backpacking weekend.

The trail did finally become visible in the afternoon, as we zigzagged up steep switchbacks through fields of wildflowers cleared of trees by a not-so-recent burn. We climbed up and up and up through little clouds of pale purple wild hollyhock that emitted a soft sweet scent. We were greeted at the top of the ridge by views of the valley and opposite hills. So yeah, that part was nice, but the bushwhacking before it had just exhausted me, physically and mentally.

There are a few advantages to being a weekend warrior, like getting to wear clean undies everyday, and deciding to turn back and go home if you’re not having fun, which is what we did this trip. You can’t really turn around and go home when you are in the middle of the wilderness, but you can have a Plan B, which, for us, meant modifying and shortening our loop.

I don’t really know where this post is going. Looking back at the photos I took, the nostalgia of Type 2 fun has already set in, and I’ve deemed it a good weekend now that I’m showered and rested (still 24 miles over two days). I guess it’s to try to explain to you, and to myself, that things still feel different post-thru-hike, and that continues to surprise. It’s been two years since our PCT hike and I still think about it almost every day, especially this time of year. (Although, I think because we moved to a completely different part of the country and started new jobs, some of that processing time got pushed back.) I know from keeping in touch with other hikers, some of them feel the same (and I also follow the blogs of a fair number of them who just never stopped hiking). I still haven’t quite figured out how to place that five months of my life into my current life. I wouldn’t necessarily call this a problem (hiking the PCT was an amazing experience I wouldn’t trade for anything), it’s just a thing that is different about my life that I’m still trying to figure out. For any of you out there thinking of your own future thru-hike, it’s food for thought. Any other Class of ’15ers out there reading this, what is it like for you two-years-post-hike?

Charlton Lake, Oregon, first thing in the morning, before a beautiful trail run, then quick swim –ah, camping life

This past weekend Not-a-Bear and I donned our trail names once again and headed to the PCT –this time as trail angels, and weekend car campers, at Charlton Lake in the Willamette National Forest, near Bend, Oregon. The lake and campsites that surround it are on a lovely stretch of trail surrounded by tall pines and dotted with crystal clear lakes. We passed through the area last year at this time (about a week later), and figured there would probably be a good-sized pack of this year’s PCT thru hikers to feed.

We were right! We lost count, but we probably saw around 40 hikers in the two days were we there. We grilled up 60 hamburgers, 32 hot dogs, and 2 veggie burgers, and doled out 48 cans of soda (grape, strawberry, and cream soda were the hits, and favorites of mine on the trail), 72 beers, 2 bags of applies, 4 giant bags of potato chips, sour patch kids, a bag of baby carrots, and lots of baked goods –basically everything we craved as hikers. We didn’t bring any food back with us and ran out earlier than we’d expected.

We had a blast! For those of you unfamiliar with trail magic, it is when strangers give unexpected food to hikers. This could be in the form of a cooler by a trail head filled with cold soda, or cooking up an actual

fun time feeding new friends

meal. It is something you don’t expect on the trail, but is always appreciated, and often the pick-me-up you need at just the right time. Our highest compliments of the weekend were from hikers who told us they were having a really bad day until they saw our signs on the trail for burgers and beers, and then things picked up. I remember feeling the same.

finally got to break out the hammock we got as a wedding gift, thought I’d have more time to relax in it, but we were quite busy with our guests!

We really enjoyed chatting with this year’s hikers and learning about how different the trail is compared to last year. For one thing, they got a lot of snow in the Sierras and had some miserable sounding stories involving miles of snowfields, ice axes, and micro-spikes. I am glad that wasn’t us last year! 2015 was an exceptionally low snow year, followed by a pretty high one this year. This led to more water in sections that were very dry for us, but also an increase in mosquitoes. We had a small smokey campfire burning all weekend to keep them down, but when you left that circle you certainly felt them, and many hikers came in with bug netting covering their faces. The bugs were long gone last year at this time.

For us it was nostalgic to be hanging with hikers again (I didn’t even mind the smell!), and fun to live vicariously for the weekend. For me especially it was really nice to feel like I fit in, something I struggled with most of my own hike last year. I finally felt like I earned my trail cred. It felt good to be able to give advice to this year’s hikers, share our stories, and listen to theirs.

Deschutes River, near Bend

It was a great group of hikers, and just a perfect weekend, topped by heading into Bend on Sunday for the night. Since we ran out of food on Saturday, we left a little earlier than planned and had time to check out some of the sights around Newberry National Volcanic Monument, like Lava River Cave, a cave created by a hollowed out lava tube, and some rapids on the Deschutes River. Then we spent the afternoon and evening exploring McMenamin’s Old St. Francis School, a Catholic School beautifully and creatively restored to a hotel, complete with a soaking pool, several bars and restaurants, and even hidden rooms filled with very cool art work.

one of many really cool pieces of art at Old St. Francis School Hotel, Bend

Now we are home, back to the real world, but it was a great mini-vacation.

Over-and-out,

Comet

P.S. If you’d like to see some of the things I’ve been up to check out The Passion Project, especially the profile of potter, Amy Hepner, a thru-hiker we met on-trail last year. Subscribe to read about another creative thru hiker I met in the next installment.

Sometimes people ask, “What was it like?” after we tell them we hiked the PCT, the whole thing.

This is such a hard question, but my answer, in trying to convey an experience few people have had, is “Everything.” It is everything; all of the emotions, all of the things, happen on the trail, just very, very differently. It is wonderful, it is horrible, it is boring, it is painful, it is amazingly beautiful, sometimes it is all of these things at once. It is like life, a lifestyle. Even though my life now is very different from my life before the trail, both are so vastly different than on the trail.

And it does change you. And I do miss it. This is not me being romantic, because, as you read from my posts on trail, I really struggled and I was so relieved to be done with it. I still am. But now. Life is just different. It’s hard to explain the difference and it’s hard to explain the change. I will say, for me anyway, and it is different for everyone, it was very gradual. When I got off the trail, I got off it. I didn’t think about it much at all for the first three months (hence, the lack of blogging). I caught up on sleep. I enjoyed showering whenever I wanted, and flushing a toilet. I ate fresh vegetables. But now I am ready to start processing, and even, to start writing about it.

The Straight Facts, Post-trail

After making our way back to the states, we meandered by bus and train back to Oregon. We spent a few weeks in the small town of Oakridge in the big forest of the Willamette with my relatives, recharging, re-acclimating, trying not to eat everything in sight, and looking for our next steps. We found them in Eugene, still a temporary placement. I had a friend from grad school with a lovely little furnished mother-in-law apartment above his garage, perfect for us, since we had no furniture, no jobs, and didn’t want to commit to a lease when we didn’t know where we might find those things (the jobs mainly).

I soon found a temporary job at Barnes and Noble, as extra help for the holidays. I’d never worked retail, but I’d always secretly wanted to work in a bookstore, especially one with a coffee shop in it. I had a blast. Being surrounded by books and people who love them all day was fantastic. It was the leave-at-work job of my dreams –except for the minimum wage pay.

Exploring the Oregon Coast

During this time, Jason was searching for work. Since the field he was looking in was harder to find employment than mine, his job search would dictate where in the Pacific Northwest we would end up. After a few months of searching, he found a position in Walla Walla, Washington. He is now the new Conservation Director at Blue Mountain Land Trust. And we just spent our first full week living there.

It’s a sweet town of about 40,000, which is probably the right size for both of us (me, leaning towards larger, Jason leaning towards smaller, this a nice compromise in the middle). We have rented a lovely house right downtown, where we can walk to absolutely anything we need. Jason walks to work.

We came with no furniture and two car loads worth of stuff. So I spent the first week in the throes of nesting, trying to make a place that felt like a more permanent home. Something we hadn’t had for almost a year. I swung back and forth between enjoying this, and feeling a bit suffocated.

Walla Walla Valley

The feeling of buying all of the things again that we had just gotten rid of –everyday all this stuff– weighed me down a little more each day. There is a great lightness in your being when you are not weighed down by stuff, when you can pick up and move whenever, wherever you want. But, after a while, I focused on the enjoyment of this process instead. I had to, but also, it feels very good to have a place to come home to, to rest, to feel totally, well, at home.

The Facts that are Harder to Say

one of the hundred+ wineries in Walla Walla

So, that’s what we’ve been up to for the past few months. And now, I’ll tell another version of it, for me, anyway. Because Jason’s experience of the trail, on and off, has always been quite different than mine.

Like I said early, when I first got off the trail, I didn’t think much about it at all. It was so far removed from the reality of day-to-day life that it felt like a dream that I only remembered pieces of here and there. But as time went on, I began remembering more and more pieces, and found myself thinking about the trail more and more, even thinking of it fondly. Memory is funny like that; it somehow eases the bad and amplifies the good.

Now I didn’t miss everything about it, for sure. There was one morning recently that I was complaining of being tired and didn’t want to get up. Jason jokingly said, as he’d often say to me in earnest in the tent on a morning like that, “Come on Comet, we only have 20 miles to walk today.” And the relief I felt for that not being the case reminded me, also, how freeing it was for me not to be on the trail, not to have to hike everyday, whether I was tired or not (and every day you are).

It’s hard to put into words the change. But it’s there. It’s the little things that are probably easiest to explain. I don’t shower everyday any more, since I realized my skin and hair actually appreciate this. I look at food differently. I now believe antiperspirant is a placebo. The little concrete changes like that, I can explain. But some of it I just cannot. At least not now.

Palouse Falls, WA, on my 35th birthday, still rockin’ the puffy

In the last two weeks of the trail, I had convinced myself I finally knew why I’d done this god-awful thing, something that was bugging me from early on. I’d finally decided I did it because I was too afraid to do the thing I really wanted to do –quit my job, move out west, and pursue creativity. I needed a something in between. The trail gave me that. It gave me courage to face this next step, I thought. And in some ways, I was right. I am braver now. It is easier to face challenging tasks in the real world, because most of them aren’t as challenging as hiking 20+ miles on not enough sleep or calories, in elevation, or heat, or cold.

But, in another way I was wrong about why I hiked, and I didn’t realize this till just the other day. I did it just to do it. And that is enough. That’s the answer most people will give you. Most people will give this answer to you before, during, and after their hike. But it took me a little longer to figure it out for myself (for various struggles within my personality or astrology). But you do it just to do it, for the experience of the thing.

One of the things Jason would say to me on trail, to help keep me going, when I really wanted to quit, was that later, I would be glad I did it, or regret not doing it if I didn’t. This was something he couldn’t explain, but he just knew was true. It wasn’t great motivation at the time, but somehow it kept me going. And he’s completely right. I’m so glad I didn’t quit. I’m so glad I made it to Canada.

I don’t regret any mile I walked. I also don’t regret any mile of trail I didn’t walk. My little breaks for various reasons added up to missing about 500 miles of the 2,659-mile trail. But those missed miles allowed me to complete the trail, complete it my way. As Pink Floyd said in a song I heard for the first time on the trail, and was a great inspiration to me, “I’ll climb that hill in my own way.” I always seem to do just that.

On Day 158 of our journey we crossed the border into Canada, completing the 2659 mile Pacific Crest Trail. Jason hiked almost every mile and I clocked in at about 2100, none of which I could have done without Not-A-Bear.

I’d say what a feeling, but honestly it hasn’t sunk in yet.

We are currently riding on a bus, away from the trail, to Vancouver where we’ll catch another bus to Bellingham to visit friends for the weekend. Then we’ll take another series of buses back to Eugene. What took us six weeks to walk will take three days to travel by bus, less if we wanted.

There will be more blog posts to come as I catch up on sleep and process the last five months. For now, I’m happy not to be walking any more, especially since today is cold and rainy.

We timed our last few days on the trail perfectly, sunny the whole way, and walking into Manning Park, BC was one of those perfect warm fall days you revel in.

The monument (Officially called Monument 78 for some reason) is right at the border, stateside, just in the middle of the woods. We got there around 6 p.m. On Wednesday, hung out with a few other hikers, took pictures.

We had to fill out and mail in a permit for Canada entry, that was approved and mailed back to us months ago. Other than that, crossing the border here is pretty unceremonious. You just continue down the trail, no one checking passports or permits. We camped at a campsite just up the trail, then had 8.5 Canadian miles to hike to the official end of the trail in Manning Park, BC.

So we have decided to enjoy the last days of the trip – no rain/snow for us, no sleeping at high elevation if we can help it, no big miles. But still, only four more days!

We are in the very tiny town of Mazama today, taking our last zero to wait out some weather, then the forecast is clear skies till the end of trail!

The day before yesterday we were in Stehekin, where we picked up our last mail drop. The very friendly post master, an old man with a big beard and a patch over his eye, looking more like a sea captain, said he’d been waiting for us after we gave our last name. He even remembered my first name and that it had an unusual spelling. He said we won the prize this year for most mail!

our loot , at the dock on Lake Chelan

We also won the prize for the only re

supply
box that rats got into, he very apologetically told us ,
and said we could fill out a claim. I didn’t think a bag of cheezits was worth the paperwork, which was luckily the only thing they got into.

Rats!

Thank you so much to everyone who sent us something! It was like Christmas! Thank you to my aunts Tammy and Dody for the inspirational cards, to my friend and former neighbor Joyce for the creative and inspiring cards, to Kate for the yummy treats and batch of beautiful cards from her summer, Liz and Becca for the candy and card, my mom for supplying us and our hiker friends with whoopie pies throughout our journey, Jason’s parents for his birthday gift. As well as previous mail drops, Veronica for the Probars, and Dan for introducing me to the wonderful world of Starbucks drink mixes, and anyone I missed, it was all greatly appreciated. (Also, Dan another thank you, it was you who first introduced me to the trail, telling me about your hike on a carpool to an eval.)

We know we couldn’t have done this trail alone. While I’m on a thank you kick, I might as well continue…all the kind people that gave us rides, and trail magic, most recently the lovely cup of hot tea and other treats back in the beginning of Washington when the weather was at its most miserable.

Also, as another hiker put it, friends and family are the best trail angels. I deeply thank those friends and family who have supported us on and off the trail by giving us places to stay, bringing us food, or just offering words of encouragement and support when I most needed it.

And thank you Kim for the kick-ass training program you created for me prehike. I’ve been wanting to thank you since the Sierras –all those stream crossings were made much easier with all the balancing exercises you had me doing! Even before that, thanks to Allied PT and my talented knee surgeon. My knee was maybe the one part of my body that never gave me any grief!

And the last group I must thank is all of the other thru hikers on this trail, that have made me laugh when I wanted to cry, see the joy and beauty in the trail when I no longer could, or just commiserate in our shared misery. (Thank you Pretzel for finally saying it out loud, sometimes we all just hate hiking.). What a wonderful and wacko group you are!

Washington has been kicking our hiker butts! The last few sections have easily been the toughest on the trail, elevation gains certainly comparable to the Seirras but with the added bonus of poorly maintained trails and shitty weather.

trail or obstacle course?

But we’re making it! The sun did peek out here and there. Stehekin was a lovely place to visit, right on beautiful Lake Chelan, with an amazing bakery. Mazama is another cute little far-off-the-beaten-path town. We’re tired but in good spirits, as are the few other hikers around us, and we’re ready to tackle those last 70 miles!

made me want to paint this scene

my “really, Washington?” faced selfie in the freshly fallen snow

Glacier Peak Wilderness

winter and fall in same shot

just a gorgeous day in the Cascades

Ok, now for the part you really want to read – the bear story (I hope you didn’t just skip to this part of the post;)

Yesterday, we hiked out with a group of other hikers. We’re hiking along and hear a whistle sound. Now, a few days ago we’d identified a bird that makes a sound just like a whistle, so I thought that’s what this was. But this one was incessant. We come upon the couple ahead of us and she tells us there is a bear near the trail, while he is blowing his whistle and shouting, trying to scare it away.

It was right on the trail when they came upon it, and it moved a little further up the bushes, munching on them and not giving a hoot about the noisy hikers below. It wouldn’t budge. This went on for maybe 20 minutes, with Jason adding to the shouts, and me staying at a greater distance with the wife, who was quite beside herself over the predicament.

Eventually one of the other hikers came up and bravely, yet gingerly walked below the bear (about 30 feet from the trail). By this time, the bear had stopped eating and lay itself down on a big rock, belly-down, paws hanging over the sides, chin also resting on rock. It did pick its head up to watch the hiker, Sunshine, pass by, but didn’t lift another muscle.

We weren’t quite as brave, but we did realize we couldn’t just live on this spot of trail, we did still have to get to Canada. We tried climbing down the ravine to go around the trail, but it was too steep. So we figured if we all went as a group, the bear would probably leave us alone.

Just then, yet another hiker, Catwater, from Alaska, came along and confirmed our plan was a good one, having had more experience with lazy bears than any of us. So we marched in a tight row, hiking poles in the air to make us look bigger, clacking them together and singing “When the Saints Go Marching In” right past the bear, who again only lifted its head to watch us pass, Catwater stopping to take a picture.

That was definitely the best view I’ve ever gotten of a bear. It was a black bear, but its color a rich brown and bigger than any one I’d seen in Maine. And we have a good story to tell now when people ask us to tell them a story from the trail, as they often do.

So, we made it to Cascade Locks, the last stop in Oregon. We can see Washington from here! Tomorrow we will cross the Columbia River via the Bridge of the Gods (the place that Cheryl Strayed ended her hike in Wild) and enter our last state of the trail, with about 500 more miles in it, barring trail closures, I’ll get to that later.

Columbia River Gorge, Bridge of the Gods, Cascade Locks, OR

We’ve had a fun run in Oregon, hiking mainly in the “green tunnel” of big moss-covered trees. Some hikers use “green tunnel” as a negative term, complaining about spending so much time under tree cover, but I love it. It’s nice and cool and shady, and the forest has its own quiet beauty.

just a little log on the trail

Of course we’ve also got plenty of glimpses of the out loud beauty of mountains and
lakes this stretch as well.

South Sister, in Three Sisters Wilderness

Obsidian Falls in the Obsidian Limited Use Area

Also lava fields, cool when you first go through them, but then the other-worldly desolation kind of gets to you, especially coupled with large burn areas.

burn area in the lava field, most desolate stretch of trail for me

burned trees framing Five Fingered Jack

lava

We had a great bit of relief in the lava fields when two friends from Eugene, Lisa and Dean, came to re supply us for the next leg and brought a great picnic feast. We all had a nice swim at Lava Lake campground to cool off.

Then it was back on the trail. Except the next day we decided this stretch was a little too long, and we couldn’t make it to Cascade Locks without a little break. So we hitched into Sisters, which turned into a very restful zero the next day.

My feet were still hurting, so Jason suggested I see if the physical therapy office, literally right next door from our motel, had any appointments. Turns out they did, starting with an hour long foot and leg massage by their massage therapist. The PT saw me as well, kineseotaped my feet, gave me some new metatarsal pads for my inserts, gave me some other good tips, and assured me my feet would stop hurting when I stop walking. So the take away message is pain management until the end of the trail. Thank you so much Step and Spine Physical Therapy for your generosity!

My feet are actually feeling better now. They’ve gotten used to my new super cushy shoes, Altras, and with my old inserts, it seems to be a good combination. So good that after my first 29-mile day 2 days ago, I wasn’t any more sore than I’d expect to be, which is a great improvement.

Now, enough talk of feet. More interesting things– photos of waterfalls, lakes, and mountains. Our last day hiking into the Columbia River Gorge (lowest elevation on the PCT), we took a popular alternate trail, called Eagle Creek. This trail has tons of great stream and waterfall views, including the very cool tunnel falls, where you hike along a cliff’s edge to the waterfall and then go into a tunnel behind it, coming out the other side. When you get close to the falls, you get a little wet from the mist, and the tunnel is dripping and full of lush moss and ferns, one of my favorite experiences on the trail so far! Not as much for Jason, who is afraid of heights, but he troopered through it!

Mt. Jefferson

kayaker on Timothy Lake during our sunset swim

Timothy Lake during my sunrise foot soak

Mt. Hood

closer view of Mt Hood, early morning

Unfortunately, WordPress isn’t letting me upload the waterfall pictures. I’ll try on Instagram or in the next post.

As we head into Washington, we are faced with several large wildfires that have closed the trail in places. One trail closure will be coming up in few days, near Mt. Adams. We will skip ahead around it, getting a ride by car, missing about a day of trail.

The next closure isn’t for a few more weeks and affects a larger portion of trail. We will probably skip around this as well. However, lots of rain is predicted for the next few days, so this may help contain fires and possibly open trails. We’ll just wait and see.

The wildfires are all currently quite far from us and we are in no real danger. The PCTA and forest rangers do a great job of proactively closing trails for hiker safety, and getting the word out about them.

See you down the trail,

Comet/Catie

P.S. we’d love to get encouraging snail mail for our final push, also Jason’s birthday is this month! Check the Where We’ll Be page on this blog for addresses and mail it today so we’ll get it in time!

There is such a stark contrast between our times in towns and our times on the trail. We go from one extreme to the other: from getting up early, spending all day on our feet, out in the open air, eating food out of ziplock bags to sleeping in, lying around in an air conditioned motel room on a soft bed, walking as little as possible, and eating as much as possible. Essentially, from extremely active to extremely lazy. And I love it! I love being able to order a big meal at a restaurant and finishing the entire thing (although Jason says he now has to rethink his ordering strategy to no longer include eating what’s left of my plate!). I love getting a little pang of afternoon hunger and filling it with whatever it is I’m craving – today a McFlurry.

ate all but 2 bites

We are zeroing today at the Charm Motel (hiker discount) in Burney, California, a little town big into fishing, and not much else. We hadn’t planned to zero or even come into this town, but here we are and happy we did.

Edit

Burney, CA

We just completed a tough stretch of trail. Hat Creek Rim, although one of the flattest sections, is also one of the hottest and driest. It is a 29.4 mile hike on top of the rim with no water and little shade, felt a bit like being back in the dreaded desert. A lot of it was through an old burn section, so at one point in time, it had been shadier.

Our plan was to do it all in one day, but after a 27 mile day before, my feet were aching and the heat was getting to us, so we put in 25 and called it good. We did carry enough water with us to be able to camp and have a little for the 4 mile hike to the creek the next morning. It was nice to be able to see Mt. Shasta for the first time, and the view of the valley below was nice.

first view of Mt Shasta, through a burn area

Mt Shasta

So the next morning, we decided that rather than stopping at Burney Falls State Park, where we’d planned on a quick resupply, meal, and shower, we’d earned ourselves a bed in town, especially since the last town we were in didn’t have any beds for us. This time we called and booked ahead before hitching in.

We had the nice big lunch special at the Chinese restaurant, where we learned, with the free wifi there, that the new shirt I ordered online and was having shipped to the state park wasn’t going to be there until Monday. Oh well, another day in town.

This last stretch also included Lassen Volcanic National Park, which was very cool. It is also very cool that as PCT hikers we get to pass through a lot of national and state parks for free, seeing parts of them that many tourists never get to experience, as well as some other perks I’ll get into in a bit.

Lassen is still an active geothermal area. Its last eruption was in 1921. We did a side trail to Terminal Geysere, which is actually a big steam vent.

Then we got to Drakesbad Guest Ranch, one of the best perks on the trail, in my opinion. Another hiker we’d been leap-frogging dubbed it the best shower on the trail. I would concur. Plus, it was free! They also allow hikers to swim in their hot spring-fed pool (during the guest dinner hour). It felt so good to take a refreshing shower then emerse in the warm pool for a quick soak. Then, we got an all-you-can-eat buffet BBQ dinner for $14! And this was real food, not the diner food we’d been getting off trail. Real fresh salad, super sweet corn on the cob, baked potato drenched in butter and sour cream, and a variety of grilled meats– the perfect summer meal.

We’ve got a few more town stops in California, with Oregon on our mind!

Happily well-fed,

Comet/Catie

P.S. Next mail stop will be in Ashland, Oregon. Check the “where we’ll be” page for date and address.